


These days

by withered



Series: liminal space [25]
Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, ichiruki month 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25668556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withered/pseuds/withered
Summary: Sometimes Ichigo wonders what his life could've been.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: liminal space [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1413535
Comments: 22
Kudos: 80
Collections: Ichiruki Month!





	These days

**Author's Note:**

> For day 2 of ichiruki month: fantasy Vs reality.
> 
> Also written because a phrase in "Wretched and divine" poked at a plotbunny and produced this.

Sometimes, Ichigo wonders what his life could've been.

If his mother hadn't died. If he couldn't see ghosts.

He wonders sometimes what it would've been like if he'd been normal.

He watches his friends, his classmates; the ones who don't know about monsters wearing masks and swords forged from souls. He watches them and wonders if he'd be as stressed out about exams, or as fretful of the future, or be turning himself inside out over some guy or girl. If he'd be so focused on milestones and school politics if he wasn't so busy training and fighting, and a girl with blue eyes.

Ichigo would be fussed over by his mom through every new school year. His parents would be gross and loving, and his sisters would get to be kids, same as him.

And that. That would be good.

Maybe he'd go through a rebellious phase because it seems like a trend to. Maybe he'd get into fights because he'd said the wrong thing and not because they'd been the jerks first. Maybe he'd even dye his hair, in fit of pique and insecurity.

Maybe one day, he might meet someone. Date. Say the wrong thing. Break a heart. Break two. Maybe he'd find someone he liked enough. Maybe they'd even make it. Maybe.

But maybe the story was always meant to be written that he'd lose his mom, that he could see ghosts.

So, what if, instead, Rukia hadn't appeared?

If it had been a different shinigami in town that night. If he hadn't gotten in their way. If the Hollow had been disposed of without his intervention. If Rukia hadn't given him her powers.

Because it must be Rukia.

Only she could've done something so reckless, so selfless to risk herself for a stranger.

Another shinigami wouldn't have.

But then again, that's not entirely true: "She saved me, I saved her."

Ichigo's expression is stiff. "It was a debt."

His dad huffs a chuckle. "Is that what it was with you and Rukia?"

And.

Well. Like father, like son.

So, he wonders instead, if without Rukia, he'd continue to live as that grumpy kid who could see ghosts, who had nightmares of his mother dying; who walked through life in a gauzy haze of existence, and who would eventually have to set an alarm on his phone to remind himself to _wake up, goddamn it._

He wonders how long that would've lasted.

If he'd finish high school. Go to college. Become something respectable enough to feed himself and eventually move out. If he'd continue to live with ghosts he couldn't help, and nightmares of his own inadequacy, and an alarm on his phone pleading him to _feel something, anything_.

His breath shudders out of him at the thought, a chill trickling down his spine.

Or maybe. Maybe he'd pretend.

Maybe he'd get tired of being that kid. Maybe he'd try to be normal. Maybe it would work. Maybe he'd be so good at it that even he could believe it.

Meanwhile, the alarm on his phone would trill in reminder, in accusation _no one can know you're a liar._

These are not thoughts Ichigo occupies himself with. Not usually.

His mother's death is the only almost. The only what if. The only, _if I could go back and do that right._

But life is a fragile thing, strung up together with the threads of everyone else's destinies; one thread pulled, plucked, rewoven and resewn, could send it all tumbling down. So. Ichigo learns to let it go. Learns to let her go. Because his mom wouldn't have wanted him to get tangled in the past, in the would-bes and almosts.

So, he doesn't, but that doesn't mean he doesn't indulge sometimes. He's allowed to be a little sentimental today, and wish she could've been here for this.

An alarm on his phone goes off, but when he reaches for the device it's a call incoming instead.

He smirks. "Having second thoughts?"

"No," is Rukia's snorted reply, and though she's annoyed at having the question thrown at her, she's still teasing, and hearing her voice for the first time today makes him feel stupidly giddy. God, he's so whipped. They'd only been apart for one night. It's not like they haven't been separated for longer before.

"I was just checking if you were having any," she continues, purposely casual. "I don't want to walk out this room and look like an idiot when you aren't there."

At that he effects a scandalised tone, "And ruin all of Byakuya's wedding planning?"

And that gets her to laugh. He presses the phone a little closer, like somehow that'll erase the distance between them until he can feel her breath against his skin, the soft shudder of her shoulders against his chest.

"You laugh," he says, goading for more, "but I'm pretty sure if I've so much as tied this tie wrong, he'll pick a better dressed guest to marry you."

Rukia hums, her smile curling her words as she teases, "In that case, I'll make sure you can still come to the reception."

It's his turn to laugh, but before he can say anything more, there's a knock on his door, and Karin's head has popped in. At first she looks approving, likely that he's managed to get dressed to her equally rigorous standards, until he turns and he has his phone pressed into his ear.

His sister scoffs. "You two are ridiculous, you guys are literally going to see each other in ten minutes."

"Who even says I'm talking to Rukia?"

"Please," Karin scoffs again, "you don't like talking to anyone but her. Now give me your phone, you should be mediating on the fact that this is your last ten minutes before you're shackled into the bonds of marriage. Forever and ever, in your case."

"She makes a compelling argument," Rukia tells him, faux seriously. "Maybe I don't want to do this."

"Now look what you did," he complains to Karin, "I just tricked her into agreeing to marrying me."

"It only took ten years and three proposals," Karin deadpans, and Rukia's laughter echoes, bubbling like champagne in his chest and splitting his face in an answering grin.

Karin rolls her eyes fondly, shakes her head and says, "C'mon, we gotta finish up or Byakuya will find other people to get married today and I don't like my chances, I've been sitting next to Toshiro, and I don't trust Rangiku not to have volunteered us as tributes."

Ichigo snorts, agrees, and Karin leaves.

Against his ear, Rukia asks him softly, "You ready?"

At that, he huffs out a breath and says, "Always." Then, "And if Byakuya makes me wait longer than I need to to see you, I'll storm the bridal suite in full Bankai."

"You'll ruin your suit," is her derisive sniff.

"Good, tell him that. God knows the kind of fit he'll pull for ruining his color scheme."

She laughs and not for the first time he thinks dazedly _I'm going to get to hear that sound for the rest of my life._

As he ends the call, the alarm on his phone from earlier is front and centre with a simple reminder: _This is real and this is yours. Don't screw it up._ _  
_


End file.
